John Robert Bedell (1944-2025)

Bob (Boobman) Bedell passed away Thursday, September 18, less than 24 hours after a zoom that Stas Maliszewski arranged with teammates and classmates. It was a team effort and extraordinary testament to Bob. He died peacefully in his sleep In Hilton Head, SC (after a long battle) knowing he was well loved.

Bob came to Princeton from Western Reserve Academy in Hudson, Ohio, majored in Religion, ate at Tiger Inn, and was quarterback on the football team. His obituary in the Hilton Head Island Packet is here. The obituary and the extensive classmate tributes below testify to Bob's many accomplishments at Princeton and beyond.

Bob's son Kirk, sent this message on behalf of himself and his sister Lisa:

Dear friends, family, former teammates, and former colleagues of our father Bob Bedell,

Lisa and I are writing to share that our dad passed away peacefully on Thursday, September 18th, in Hilton Head. He was surrounded by loved ones and cared for with great compassion.

Per his wishes, we will hold a private ceremony for him this fall. But as you well know, Bob Bedell was a larger-than-life personality who had an outsized impact on those who knew him.

To honor that, we’ve set up a memorial website where you can leave notes, stories, and tributes, as well as upload any photos you see fit. We’ve already posted a batch of photos that we hope will stir fond memories. You'll see we made it through the 1970s and then trailed off, so please add any classic photos or “keepers” to help fill the gaps!). If you’d prefer to send a story or remembrance directly, please email 66_MemorialTeam@tiger1966.org.

Forever Missed Memorial page with numerous photos and tributes: Click here.

Our dad wished to be cremated, so in addition to interring some of his remains in the cemetery in Hilton Head, we plan to scatter his ashes in the following places that were dear to him:
Princeton University
Western Reserve Academy
The Rockaway Hunting Club
We would welcome help from friends connected to any of these places in choosing meaningful locations. If you’re willing to suggest a fitting spot, please email us.

Football Memories

Bob was a key member of the great football teams we remember where he served as the play-calling quarterback and holder for Charlie Gogolak's field goals and extra points. As the team's Blocking Back, he served as another pulling guard required to make key blocks at the point of our running attack. Finally, he was required to run pass routes and catch that ball with points at both ends. He performed all of his jobs superbly. Our 50th Reunion Book covers the 1965 season, game by game, starting on page 23 (pdf file or p. 34 in the book) and continuing through page 28, with individual articles titled Football: 1962-1965, A (Freshman) Football Life, The View from the Press Box, An (Almost) Perfect Season, and A Modest Proposal: Bring Back the Single Wing. Reading these pages will bring back many memories and highlight Bob's achievements. You'll also find the names of other classmates who played important roles.

The October 12, 1965 Daily Princetonian article, The Tiger Quaterback: Jack of All Trades, features Bob, describes his duties, and has numerous action photos. Start on page 8 and continue on page 6. In the process, it'll be hard to resist reading other Princeton news from 1965.

Click here for a high resolution 1965 team photo. Bob is #24.

Seniors on the 1965 Football Team. From Stas Maliszewski

Nassau Herald

Masked Men 2021

Memories and Tributes

Jim Bedell '68 (Bob's brother)

My only brother, Bob Bedell '66, died Thursday, 9/18, at age 81, peacefully in his sleep. He had been diagnosed with colon and liver cancer in 2011 and had beaten the cancer, but the liver damage led to his needing progressively serious paracentesis and thoracentesis. Since late 2001, he resided on Hilton Head Island, SC, with his partner Barbra Finer.

In our last embrace on July 1st, I reminded him that he had been a very tough act to follow in smallish Hudson Ohio, where he had earned the maximum 11 varsity letters in football, basketball, and baseball at Western Reserve Academy, and represented Hudson playing on a baseball team with only 11 players that placed 2^nd in Ohio in the American Legion 1962 state tournament. (Great advice from our mother was that I stay in the band and try wrestling at Hudson High -- and not to compete with his reputation!)

Recruited by Dick Colman to play football at Princeton, he lettered two years as holder for Charlie Gogolak's kicking and as a signal-calling blocking back. In 2019 he was listed among the best players at blocking back since the formation of the Ivy League. He also was a Tigertone three years and worked in Commons four years. Following service in the Army Reserves in 1966, he received an MBA from Wharton in 1968 and then worked primarily in NYC. Around 1985, leaving a position as Executive VP of Cinemax, he co-founded the pay-per-view TV industry at Viewers' Choice.

On 9/17, Ron Landeck '66 invited me to a Zoom call that included 28 guys, mostly from a very tightknit group of former football players, plus myself, Bob, and his best friend on HHI, Richie Thomas '66. It was incredible to see the outpouring of love from those guys to Bob — and my participating means a great deal to me — none of us knowing that Bob would die the next day.

Rich Thomas helping Bob set up Zoom with Teammates. Sent by Kirk Bedell

Ron Landeck:

Good friends in life run deep. Bob and I had such a friendship. It started on a practice football field at Princeton and prospered ever since. Despite not ever living near one another we found ways to communicate over many years. Bob called every year to wish me a happy birthday. That small thing, in the big picture, is not small at all. I have a hunch, knowing Bob, that I was not the only person who he remembered this way.

Bob was a big-hearted, compassionate, fun, kind and humble person. His love for people and relationships showed in all walks of life: family, friends, work and adventure. He was a pioneer in the age of cable television and active in the community. He adored his family. He lit up the room with his smile and cheer.

He could also be quite a character and, most notably in my experience, for the “marriage lectures “ he delivered during bachelor parties for his male friends. He was the Boobman, like no other.

He was a gifted athlete playing freshman baseball and varsity football at Princeton. Little known are his basketball skills as a virtual magician at center for the eating club championship Tiger Inn basketball teams of the day.

Bob’s football prowess, however, is most noticeable given that the 1965 Tiger team he led filled Palmer

Stadium to the brink. Play calling in football is an art, a thing of critical scrutiny back then and even more-so now. Bob Bedell called all the plays and was good as it gets. His acumen and temperament in the huddle enabled the Team of 1965 to reach new heights in Princeton Football history.

Bob used these exceptional leadership skills and his affability and humility in creating a life built on love for family and friends. His unique energy and passion will be missed.

I’m disappointed this is not better. I wish Bob’s smile and laugh could fill the page.

Hilton Head Reunion, October, 2023. Sent by Stas Maliszewski

L-R: Teammates Lauson Cashdollar, Bob Bedell, Bert Kerstetter, Ron Landeck, Dave Sonnenberg

Rich Thomas:

I contemplated this with heavy heart, but as I began to reminisce an incredible lightness and a sense of elation filled my senses. What can I say about my dearest friend and someone I have loved as a brother for 63 years and counting. I tried to go chronologically but I soon realized the futility of that approach to the memory of someone who was so emotionally spontaneous, impulsive, caring and giving. Boobman’s awareness of others and empathy is unsurpassed in my experience. So, I guess randomly, but maybe purposefully, here goes:

One side of Boober many may not know is that he was a gadget man. Constantly finding gizmos that were supposed to do one thing or another, and that rarely worked as claimed, he would find an occasion to present obscure trinkets and objects that would have no relation to the occasion being observed or enjoyed together. Try as I might, I am failing to remember one that would especially make the point, as there were so many, but an illustration would be the F-bomb he presented me with one weekend we were together in the country. It had been painstakingly wrapped in a small package, and he had been keeping it until an appropriate moment, and when I used one of my favorite profanities in the presence of mixed company, he stopped the action and reached into his little Ghurka bag that he carried and pulled it out. When he handed it to me it was exceptionally heavy for such a small object, and, when opened, it revealed what looked like a large cherry bomb with a lower case letter “f” attached, all in steel. It occupies an honored place on my desk to this day, a reminder of Boobman and of my need for better self control at times.

In that same regard, he was a compulsive shopper, especially as the online shopping world emerged. He seemed to operate on the principle that five of something is better than one, and then he loved to present his gadgets as giftoids … some random moment would come up when he would abruptly disappear for a minute and come back with a big grin on his face carrying a bizarre piece of equipment. a trinket or some wardrobe accoutrement that he would present to you and demand that you wear it, or try it on, or use it in his presence … always offering an hysterically sarcastic comment about your use of the object.

Boobman was absolutely an artist. He had a grasp of the fine points of nearly any thing he devoted his attention to, and he had a unique way of expressing his appreciations of them. One of his fine arts was photography, and he was really talented in that regard. He had the finest equipment and loved to shoot people and places – landscapes were not his thing but the interaction of landscapes and people was. He would regularly visit Suzanne’s and my home in the suburbs, and he became really skilled in the use of our home photo lab to develop and manipulate the images he created.

Lighting was one of his real specialties, from the way he captured natural light from various angles at certain times of day or his use of candlelight with still lifes or human contours in the darkness. As far as the contours, many of those had to do with one of his most pronounced loves – the female anatomy – which is, of course, the derivation of his nickname. He would take every opportunity to photographically explore the natural curves of the female figure: on beaches, in parks, and in lavish settings in various states of repose, and in various types of attire or the lack thereof. One of his favorite places was St Barts, where he would spend vacation time every winter for a number of years running with one woman friend or another, and that was due to its topless and nude beaches where the beautiful people cavorted. His photography from that location is truly remarkable, and he would often allow his friends to appreciate his artwork following his return.

He was both a gastronome and an oenophile. French cuisine was his favorite and, although I can’t recall any special skill as a chef, his mastery of sauces and seasonings stands out. Whether a veal rib on fine China or baby back ribs on a bun, he knew how to make a naturally delicious food exponentially more so with the sauces he pulled together. He also had a true understanding of how wine complemented the various types of food … I don’t think he ever became a certified sommelier, but his knowledge was on that level. Some of my favorite memories of him come from the wine tastings he would stage on special occasions. They were elaborate with detailed descriptions of the wines to be tasted, the masking of labels so the participants couldn’t identify the wine before tasting, the collars with numbers he placed on the bottles for identification, or the glasses, linens and personal writing pads for making notes on flavor. One New Years Eve wine tasting, he even supplied handheld Colombina masks with feathers and glitter to supposedly conceal the identity of the taster when they related their evaluation of the tasted wine. He would even award points for the creativity of their terminology used in the description of the wine. He would present the wines with great ceremony and pour the samples with hilarious dialog … of course, it was all for laughs. Despite the ceremony, he didn’t want everything to be taken too seriously.

Beyond the French food and the wines, he loved ice cream and would often consume a pint of one flavor before moving on to another at one sitting. He would also experiment with flavors, frequently buying a limited edition of a flavor he saw while shopping for one of his standards. I really can’t think of a flavor he didn’t like. He would always offer a taste to his company, but most of it managed to disappear before too many tastes could be had.

Perhaps the source of his artistic sense was his innate creativity. It showed in many ways, but one of the most memorable examples is his demonstrations of the use of zort bags. When he would visit us in New Jersey, and later at our farm in PA, he would find the perfect location for a nighttime display of zort bags. In my experience of Boobman and zort bags, it was typically associated with the adult use of some form of THC, followed at an interval by the gathering of the kids and, lastly, the ignition of the zort bags he had previously hung at the demo site. For those not familiar, a zort bag is a long, clear plastic laundry bag that covers garments returned from the cleaner, tied at intervals in knots, and suspended on a wire hanger from a tree limb over a bucket of water or a pool. After the weed took effect, and in the darkness, viewing from a slight distance, the lighted plastic would burn with a blue flame slowly upward from the bottom, and when it hit a knot it would emit a noise as the knot melted that sounded like “Zooooooorrrrrt” as it fell and hit the water. It was as good as a fireworks display, at least in a very simple way.

But my most cherished memory of the Boobman is of him as a father. He was so unwaveringly attuned to his kids – their actions and their emotions. He was caring, gentle and loving and showed it in every way, and, when it was needed, a firm disciplinarian but with a nurturing firmness not a threatening one. He was a model of what I wanted to be and hope that I was to my own kids. Kirk and Lisa were family and near siblings with my kids, as Boober would always make sure they would have time together that we all could share in. We did simple things and spent lots of time in the outdoors when our Bedell family were with us.

Personally, to me, Boober was that unconditional friend, like a brother and in many ways closer, who was a source of understanding and wisdom when I needed it most … loving without reservation, living with an incredible sense of humor and timing that uplifted those around him, the life of a party, and a dedicated, always outwardly-oriented, generous, giving, loyal and devoted companion. Our lives were inextricably intertwined from the moment we met at Princeton through the day he moved on to the other side. We worked, played, and spent time together as comrades in our careers as colleagues in three companies and in the same industries for nearly two decades, had innumerable weekends and a few vacations together, and have lived together as neighbors on Hilton Head Island for nearly 25 years. He is now physically not with us, but he lives bigger than life in my heart and consciousness. I do and will miss him terribly.

Bob on the right with Barbie and the Thomases. From Kirk Bedell

Dave Ames:

Bob loved to host gatherings at the house he shared with Barbra Finer, his loving partner. Whether for one couple or a gang, there was always delicious food and special wine and plentiful spirits and prizes to be given out for games. This joie de vivre was quintessential Bob Bedell….The joy of welcoming friends in and giving them the best of times and fond memories.

Barbra gave Bob the love, stability and care he deeply appreciated and needed more as his health issues began to accumulate over the years. As they say, he couldn’t have done it without her. Thank you, Barbra.

Rich Thomas, Dave Ames, Bob Bedell. 2016 in Hilton Head Island after the 50th Reunion

Kit Mill:

Bedell thoughts below…

The Origin of Boobman

Freshman year, Bob lived in Brown Hall, first entry third floor, with Nahas, Merlini and F. Morgan. There were two foursomes below them---Mill, Rogers, Ungern and Nixdorff in 122 Brown and next to them Maliszewski, Savidge, Gates and Mengle.

One afternoon in late fall, Rogers and Mill were visiting Bob, Chuck, Bob N. and Morgan in their room. Bob was regaling us with stories of women’s breasts and his many conquests. Rogers and Mill, two God-fearing boys (and next door neighbors in the little town of Webster Groves, MO) were wide eyed. Abruptly, Rogers got up and left and returned in 10 minutes with a white Caldwell T with two Magic Marker, orange circles on the shirt’s chest with two dots in the middle of each circle. Rogers handed the shirt to Bob and said: “Here’s to you, Boobman.” And, as they say, the rest is history.

PS The circle with the dot in the middle became Bob’s signature on most written material for the rest of his time at Princeton.

311 E. 84^th St.

Bob was living with me in my 5^th floor walkup studio apartment, address above, in NYC. I had started my job at Young & Rubicam in late August of 1968. Bob asked if he could stay with me for a couple of months as it turned out, while he was looking for an apartment in NYC. His job at J. Walter Thompson wasn’t starting until later that year.

When his job did start at JWT, late November as I remember, he was still staying with me at 311. He was a diligent young Account Exec and faithfully ate his lunches at the JWT cafeteria in/near Grand Central. The young, single women who worked at nearby Conde Nast were not stupid, they too ate at the JWT cafeteria. One of the diners was a spectacular woman whose name was Carla Moore; I know this because Carla was the roommate of Susan Kurtz, later to become my wife.

Bob saw Carla one day, and not being shy, an extraordinary understatement, introduced himself to Carla and asked her out on the spot. Those of you who know Bob as we all do---he’s about the best package of good looking and charming as it gets. In a short period of time, Bob and Carla became an item, in Bob’s eyes anyway, and after he had met Carla’s roommate, Susan, Bob suggested that one evening he and I go over to their apartment at 51 E. 73^rd in the “very fashionable” area of the Upper East Side.

Bob was at Carla’s on a Saturday night. On my way over to 51 E. 73^rd to join him, I was mugged by three teens on the corner of 73^rd and Madison. (I learned later from the NYPD that the biggest one was called the Yoke; he stood in back of the victim giving him a reverse full Nelson; the second was called the Mouth (obvious), and the third was the Eyes/lookout. The Mouth stood in front of me. He had an icepick under my chin and said that I should give him my money; I complied. $36. or the icepick.

Somewhat shaken, I entered Carla’s and Susan’s apartment. Bob was sitting on the couch across from the front door, eyes wide. They all listened intently to my adventure. Carla and Susan were aghast. There was a long silence and Bob finally said: “Damn, if you’d been killed, I could have gotten your apartment.” Honest. That’s what he said. I’m pretty sure he was only half kidding.

A Student of Everything but being a Student

If Bob was intent on being good at something, he became a student of that something. Take sports. Bedell and Landeck are the two best athletes I’ve ever met.

Bob was a great quarterback during the ’65 football season. He worked daily with Coach Coleman preparing for an upcoming opponent. He was an exceptional play caller. Good blocker. Great hands.

He was also a great Club basketball center at only 6’ but was like Charles Barkley---a madman under the boards---hip checking, shoving, constant motion. A student of the game.

He was a great catcher on the freshman baseball team until he got into the Tigertones and decided that he’d rather sing in front of the young women at various colleges and prep schools than continue to don the tools of ignorance. All catchers are students of baseball calling for pitchers to throw a certain pitch based on the catcher’s studies of opposing hitters. He was an OK singer.

Sidebar: He could do anything even before he became a student of that anything. It was in the winter after football season junior year, I think. Lake Carnegie was iced over. The Nass closed at 10:00 (?) so we decided to skate down the KI which stayed open until 12:00 (?). Larsen, Van Horne, Mill who had skates and had skated before, albeit not so well, asked Bob if he wanted to go. He agreed saying that he’d never skated before. He borrowed a pair of skate and the four of us went to the KI to get those horrible tasting cardboard containers of beer. He wasn’t any good but, hell, we had to give him some slack, as it was his first time on skates. He could do anything.

But I digressed…back to an example of his not being a student of being a student. Van Horne, Bedell and Mill took Politics 101 sophomore year. We went to the first lecture in McCosh 10 or some other cavernous hall. As roommates in 11 Holder, we, of course, sat together for this first encounter. The professor’s name was Faulkner. This may have been the only lecture before mid-terms that Bob attended. That wasn’t the worst part. Of being a “relaxed student” Faulkner was also our preceptor. This I’m sure of, he never went to a precept that semester. I know this because Horne and I, modestly diligent students, went to every precept.

Mid-terms were upon us. We went to take the exam. We sat together. Faulkner handed out the blue books to each of us. The blue books, you’ll recall, had the following list on the front page ---Name, Course, Professor, Date. Bob was sitting between us and whispered: “What is the Professor’s name?” Horne, an extraordinary capable lawyer and an honest soul, (he’s still working, at the largest law firm in Santa Barbara) was horrified and moved several seats away from Bob. I whispered to Bob: “Screw you, the Honor Code!” and moved three or four seats in the opposite direction that Horne had taken.

The test was in three parts; two initial questions were 20 % apiece. The last question was 60% of the test. As I recall, this last question had something to do with politics and war. Bob was writing furiously during the whole hour. Horne and I weren’t sure how or why.

Horne and I passed; Bob got a -0- out of a hundred. The front page of his blue book read: Name: Bob Bedell. Course Politics 101; Professor: Dark Hair and Glasses; Date: correctly written. At the end of the 60% question Bob had written in his blue book: “If there is one thing you can’t do with a sword is sit on it.” Professor Faulkner wrote in red pen: “The thorough and unqualified nature of your ignorance, Mr. Bedell, thoroughly astounds me.”

The reason that I know the above is because Bob had framed this last page of the blue book with Professor Faulkner’s comment and proudly kept it hanging over the toilet in his bathroom for years.

No Judgment

Bob was kind and fair to everyone. He rarely judged people. I never in four years of intense time with him did I hear him say a critical or unkind word to any of us. He let everyone “in” equally. Example. We---Van Horne, Larsen, Bob and me— were playing tennis on a gorgeous day in the spring of junior year. Horne and Sands (RIP) are/were not great athletes; I’m OK and then there’s Bob who is as good as it gets. It was a round robin. I started with Sands; Bob with Horne. We lost. I was pissed. Then it was Horne and I vs. Sands and Bob. We lost. Now, Mr. Bad Sport, was really pissed. Finally, with Bob, I had a chance to win. Bob served first. I was, teeth clenched, at the net. On his first serve, Bob hit me square in the ass. Hurt like hell. I didn’t move. My three roommates each dropped first to their knees in laughter then rolled onto their back in hysterics. Bob finally stopped laughing, got up and said: “Don’t be such an asshole and take the joy out of our being together”. Bob let everybody “in.” Equally. It was Bob’s way. Kind, soft , fair man.

There are so many more wonderful stories that Bob starred in. Others will tell.

It’s a cliché, but it holds truest for Bob Bedell more than anyone I’ve ever known.

Bob was one of a kind.

I’ll miss him.

1962 Freshman Football Team

Bob is #43, second from left in the third row

Photo from the 1963 Bric-a-Bac, sent by Stas Maliszewski

Bob Nahas:

We will all miss him. One of our classmates wrote simply Bedell was a legend.. I had been trying to reach him for weeks when I heard the end was near. Then I heard that he was too weak to return calls. However, Barb played my voicemails for him and he was able to tell them to send his love to me. That was not long before he moved on.

Bob, the late Chuck Merlini, Frank Morgan and I were freshman roommates in Brown Hall. It was intimidating as all were much better athletes than I. Bob with the maximum letters that could be earned at his high school. I vaguely remember some test of skills and conditioning that Bob and Chuck aced.

Sometime in the 70’s, I drove down Riverside Drive on my way to work. I normally commuted from New Jersey by bus, so I probably was returning a rented car from a business trip. As I was driving, I thought to myself: “I think Bob Bedell lives somewhere around here.” I happened to look to my right, and there he was at a bus stop. I pulled over; he got in, and we rode to midtown together.

CHARM. When Bob got on the phone with my then girlfriend, now wife, Virg, she was totally charmed. He was kind to her If I were in a class or working when she arrived, he would meet her. She’s loved him ever since. He was true friend and called me every year on my birthday.

I certainly loved him and it meant so much last week when Barb’s daughter texted me that they had played my voice messages of the past few weeks to Bob, and that his message back was Love.

Bob was supremely self-confident but diffused any blatant ego with his grin.

Some examples of that self-confidence:

*One Sunday night during some horseplay, Chuck threw some of Bob’s clothes out our 3rd floor window. Bob, naked at the time, decided that easiest way to retrieve them was to exit the 3rd floor window and climb down three stories of Brown Hall. To me, it was the equivalent of the Matterhorn. When he arrived at the bottom, there was a member of campus security (not a proctor). He was probably so taken aback that all he did was tell Bob to go back to his room.

*On a Friday night, Frank and I returned from the movies and were told that Bob was in a beer-drinking contest in Paul Savidge’s room. I though “Uh-Oh, there’s Bob’s self-confidence again.” There was no way he was going to match Paul’s capacity. I went to Paul’s, and Bob was out of it, so I put his arm over my shoulder and walked him to the bathroom, where I held him up fully clothed in the shower, getting him to the point where he could change and go to bed.

*Part of that self-confidence was his belief that there wasn’t a female he couldn’t charm.

We went to Manhattan to see Mutiny on the Bounty. We had a couple of beers afterward and missed the last bus to Princeton. So, we took the subway to Penn Station, hoping to get a train back. On our car was one other person - an attractive woman with long Auburn hair, wearing heels, sunglasses and a long leather coat.

Of course, Bob thought that he could sweep her offer feet. Maybe having seen enough R-rated movies, I told him that she was probably a professional. That didn’t deter him. He walked over to her and started chatting. He returned to his seat with a sheepish grin and her business card.

We then thought we would sleep in a couple of chairs at the Port Authority until the first bus Sunday morning. The PA police had othe ideas, so we found a seedy hotel nearby, probably $10 or so a night and checked in. I never thought much about it then but later assumed that two guys checking into a room with one bed had something else in mind.

Several years later upon seeing Midnight Cowboy, I thought that the clerk figured Bob was the Jon Voight character, and that I was Ratso Rizzo (dustin Hoffman’s character).

Bob and kids at Rockaway. From Kirk Bedell

Rick McMillan:

Bob joined the Tigertones our Sophomore year. His second tenor voice would never make him a soloist, but he brought a larger than life reputation with him when he joined, and his good looks gave him a stage presence that, shall we say, charmed our audiences.

And yet he had none of the cocky, BMOC attributes that you might have expected, for that was not Bob’s way. Instead, rather than strutting his star football stature and personal magnetism, Bob joined our group with the same self-deprecating manner that he offered up throughout his life. You sensed a man who feared he might not measure up, even as he more than measured up to all that knew him.

Perhaps most importantly, he was a devoted friend. A man who, once he bonded, retained an unwavering loyalty to his friends, and thoughtfully looked out for those he loved. He had some difficult times during his life, and sometimes he doubted himself, but his memory will be long cherished and held special by the great many friends who were lucky enough to know him.

Jon Dawson:

Our classmate Bob (Boobman) Bedell passed away Wednesday night just hours after a zoom that Stas arranged with teammates and classmates. It was an extraordinary testament to Bob. He died peacefully I his sleep (after a long battle) knowing he was well loved.

Bill Mitchell:

I knew of him as a fine example of what makes Princeton a great institution then and now - intelligent, well rounded, excellent in so many of life’s dimensions, a good person who accomplished many things to make our world a little better. Let’s hope there will always be Princetonians like Bob to make a positive difference.

Jim Stoops:

Very sorry to hear about the Boobman passing recently. He was truly one of a kind, and a great friend to all who knew him. I recall when he was moved from tailback to blocking back, and everyone wondered how this would work out. Tailbacks don’t know how to block! How wrong we were! He became a great blocker, playcaller, pass receiver, and motivator. May you rest in peace Boobman!

Johnny O'Brien '65:

What good fortune to make our heartfelt connections with Boobman before he broke the huddle one last time. Well, until he forms the next one in “Tiger Heaven” when we hopefully join him! And perhaps the gods were reminding us to stay close to the “players” we love who are still on the field. Let’s do stay in close touch.

Terry Scherck:

Bob’s passing took some brightness and joy from all of us. He was a good friend with irresistible spark and warmth. Because I also was a member of Rockaway Hunting Club there are two places I can think of for his ashes. First would be the 9th fairway, a famously beautiful and challenging hole along the water. Another, perhaps somewhat more appropriate spot would be just off the 18th green, hard by the terrace bar where many good times were enjoyed. With my very best.

Stas Maliszewski:

Even though we knew he was not well, the loss of our classmate, teammate and friend hit many of us very hard. At our age we’ve experienced many deaths of people that we knew to varying degrees. But losing someone from your youth with whom you had shared experiences that can never be replicated is totally different.

Bob Bedell had a certain swagger about him that was unique. He was in many respects a true imp. He disarmed you with his charm and wit. He was in the middle of everything. I mean, who else would join the Tigertones so that he could travel to girl’s schools. But Bob had figured that one out while the rest of us where wondering why he got into singing.

Bob worked hard at football. He started off freshman year as a tailback. That’s a glamour position that required skill in running and passing. That is, you were a so-called real football player. However, when we moved up to the varsity he was moved to “quarterback”. Sounds good but you didn’t handle the ball much if at all since he was a glorified blocker. Nevertheless, it turned out it was a position that suited him perfectly. It provided him an opportunity to highlight his command of the team and the game since he called the plays. He set the strategy unlike the rest of us who just executed plays.

By senior year number 24 was in the starting lineup, that meant he could call his own number!!! And with his skills he did that to great advantage.

It was a real blow to our team when we lost Bob in the Harvard game. He could not be replaced. That was particularly evident later in the Dartmouth game. Oh, what could have been if he had been with us in the game. That has haunted many of us.

Bob we missed you then and we miss you now.

God bless you my friend.

1998

Representing an era of Princeton football greatness. Two Ivy League championships that included one undefeated season and a record of 24 and three over three years.
Stanislaw Maliszewski ‘66 All America and consensus All America
Cosmo Iacavazzi ‘65 All America, collegiate Hall of Fame,
Charlie Gogolak ‘66 All America, drafted in the first round of the national football league by the Washington Redskins
Ron Grossman ‘67 linebacker for the 64, 65, 66 football teams
Bob Bedell ‘66 quarterback for the 64 and 65 football teams

AI-generated avatar from Lauson Cashdollar

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